


Night Thief of Spades

by ixiepixie



Series: A Game of Cards and Chess [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Cardverse, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2020-06-08 17:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixiepixie/pseuds/ixiepixie
Summary: An average thief steals their food for the day. An Extraordinary thief goes after a noble's house, or maybe a fancy jeweler.An idiot thief goes after a symbol of the Royal Set.





	1. Bright Night for a Heist

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 4th, here's an idiot thief named Alfred.
> 
> Don't know how long this will be yet, my head is still swimming from the Shadowbringers release mixed with ideas for this.

The city of Phire was quiet, dark clouds hanging low over the Northern Mountains and blocking the moon from shining on the rooftops. The streets were quiet, save for the last few stragglers heading home from local taverns, their voices mixing with the jingles and clanks of armored boots from patrolling guards. Street lamps were lit, and most homes were lit from the inside in shades of yellow or orange. Smoke billowed from the chimneys, hearths lit to keep occupants warm throughout the night. Standing atop one of many homes, a figure of shadow loomed over the city, before taking off into the darkness. It was a perfect night for a heist, especially one of this caliber. No one in their right mind would ever try to do what one thief, namely Alfred F. Jones, was about to do tonight.

He was going to steal King's Clock.

Had anyone heard about this plan, they surely would have laughed in the lad's face and called him a madman, for no one could break into the Royal Palace of Spades. It was impossible! Or so they would think.

Alfred had someone on the inside, someone who made all of this possible. The young thief neared the back wall of the castle, looking around before he slipped over the top on a rope that had been left for him.

"Gil, you there?"

"Shhhhh, keep it down kid!" A quiet and raspy voice shushed him, a man with startling red eyes stepping out of some bushes, "I'm riskin my tail for you here, man. If you fuck up, I don't know you, got it?"

Blue eyes rolling so hard it hurt, Alfred took the keys from the Guard Captain's hand. "You worry too much, I'll be in and out before the moon even gets halfway to setting."

Gilbert Beilschmidt, Royal Knight Captain and leader of the palace guard, ran a hand through his white hair. "This is the dumbest shit you've ever pulled, you know that? If you're caught, I'll probably have to execute you-"

"Then I better not get caught, huh?" Al chimed, putting on the guard uniform Gil had brought with him to sneak Alfred inside, "Okay, do I look like I know where I'm going?"

"No, but if you keep your mouth shut, you just might make it past my first patrol."

"Har har, maybe I should just go straight in and tell the Jack that the Knight Captain is an ex con man-"

A metal-clad hand was over Alfred's mouth in seconds, those red eyes fiercely determined.

"You double cross me, and I'll make sure I take you down too, Mr. Night Thief."

Alfred's grin was wide, his eyes full of mischief. "And just who was it that taught this thief all he knows? Come on, Gil, you know I'm just playing with you."

Gilbert seemed to relax, though he still looked a little frazzled. "I've got a good thing going here, Al. I don't want to mess it up. Again."

Giving a nod of understanding, Alfred gestured that it was time to stay quiet, hurrying into the palace proper. Gil kept watch at his back, silently giving instructions of where to go. Once they made it to a certain landmark, the doors to the Undercastle, Gilbert broke off in a different direction, giving one last wave to Alfred before he rounded a corner, a smirk on his lips.

"Good luck, kid. You'll need it."

Alfred was on his own now.

His first order of business was to open the lock on this door. He had plenty of time until the next patrol came, but that didn't mean he could be sloppy. These types of doors always had traps of some kind, and that extra time was required to attempt to disarm as many as he could, if he could at all. Lockpicks and other tools on the floor before him, Alfred began his work on the lock itself, keeping an ear out for telltale clicks, as well as any footsteps. No one seemed to be coming, so he focused more on the lock than anything else. It wasn't until he had it unlocked that he felt an odd presence. Someone had to be watching him.

Eyes already adjusted to the darkness of the corridor, Alfred tried to make out any moving forms or hear any odd sounds, but nothing stood out to him. He shrugged the feeling off as just his paranoia. This was the heist of the century, after all.

With the Undercastle now unlocked, Alfred carefully opened one of the ornate doors, sliding inside. He didn't close it all the way, leaving it just barely open so that the lock wouldn't click back into place. Hopefully no one noticed it, though he seriously doubted anyone would. Most guards patrolling right now were probably more focused on when they could finally go to bed.

Inside the door, Alfred pulled a small crystal from his pocket. It filled the darkness of the room beyond with a soft, blue light. Little pocket lanterns like this were commonplace nowadays, but they hadn't always been so readily available. Most wizards and witches had holed themselves up, fearful of persecution after years of prejudice and hate. The new Queen of Spades, however, had changed all of that.

Apparently, the Queen was a force to be reckoned with, magically gifted beyond anyone's imagination. Of course, those could just be rumors as well. What Alfred did know, was that he did not want to get on that witch's bad side, and so he had to get in and out with the King's Clock, fence it off to the highest bidder, and let them deal with the wrath of the Spadien Royal set.

Of course, the Royal set was currently incomplete, but Alfred couldn't blame the King for hiding himself with a witch on the throne and all. Gil had tried to convince Alfred when he was young that not all witches were the 'evil warts and toads' kind from the storybooks, but he remained relatively unconvinced on that front. No one with that much power was anything but corrupt. They had to be.

The Queen had probably locked the King away so they could rule without interference, or maybe even killed the King before they could be announced!

Okay, that was more like a front page story on some back alley news stand down in the city, but still! Five years with no one coming forward as King was just not normal.

Alfred's thoughts continued to run rampant as he descended a staircase into the deepest reaches of the palace. The Treasury should be straight ahead of him now, if Gilbert's descriptions had any credit to them. Sure enough, the gilded doors to the royal treasury were before him.

Something nagged at the back of his mind though. Was he still being watched? A quick glance behind and to the sides confirmed that he was alone, but Al just couldn't shake this feeling of unease. It was almost like he was being scolded as a child, that same feeling of embarrassment and dread that came with those lectures.

Damn, this place was creepy.

Alfred hurriedly got out his tools once more, setting to work on the gold encrusted doors before him. Hell, even the lock itself had jewels on it, now that was overkill. Maybe he'd pop a few off if he had time, but for now, he focused on the task at hand. These tumblers were much more temperamental than the ones on the first door had been, so they required his undivided attention. That was hard to do with this feeling of being watched, but it was likely due to him being in almost total darkness aside from some crystal lamps on either side of the door, as well as his own small light.

"You can do this," He muttered to himself, "just focus on the lock."

Easier said than done. When one of his tools broke, he cursed and rummaged in his bag for a spare. Always bring spares, Gil had taught him long ago, his second most important life lesson. What of the first?

A hand on his shoulder had Alfred yelping in fright, his mouth soon covered by a second hand, the woolen fabric of a glove muffling his voice.

Always be aware and have an escape, the most important lesson of all. Unfortunate that Alfred, in his haste, had forgotten to take note of any possible exits nearby. He was in the underpalace, so there were no windows that he was aware of, the only way out he knew of was back up those stairs. He was really regretting not stealing a map of this place before he had come here. Alfred was officially caught in a trap.

Shit.

The hand on his mouth had a voice, smooth as silk against his ear. "My my... what have we here?"

He was caught.


	2. Full Moon's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple price to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't even sure if I would make more but I like this one so here ya go.

Currently in one hell of a bind, Alfred tried not to panic overmuch. He was presently in the Underpalace with only one option of escape, preparing to commit a crime that could see him dead in seconds if he was caught, and what was that other thing?

Oh yeah, he had been caught.

That same silken voice whispered against his ear, taunting him. "What's the matter, pet? Cat got your tongue? I'm sure you have a wonderful excuse for being down here at this hour with a set of tools that look suspiciously like lockpicks and probes."

This ass was just poking fun at him now, and obviously enjoying it. Probably a servant looking to get a promotion, or maybe even a sycophant, though he doubted anyone like that was allowed down here. The gloved hand had him leaning more towards servant than guard, so maybe they were unarmed? Overpowering this guy might be his only option.

Making a move to lodge his elbow into this mystery man's ribs, Al fell backwards, the hands no longer on his mouth or arm. It was like the stranger's body had just vanished into smoke. Darkness surrounded him as, one by one, the crystal lamps were waved away with a snap of those gloved fingers. It was then that Alfred realized he was dealing with no ordinary servant. This person was a witch.

Figures that the Queen of Witches would employ them too, he really should have seen this coming. It was only now dawning on him that he had been woefully unprepared for this heist. Gil hadn't even mentioned anything like this either! Damn double crossing Heartisian bastard!

A chuckle from the dark caught his attention, and Alfred could make out the shadow of a man in it.

"You have quite the reputation, Night Thief. I've been watching your exploits across the city for a while now." After a hum, the witch stepped closer, "I never would have assumed you'd have the gall to break into my castle, let alone the treasury. I'm impressed you even managed to avoid my guards... I'll have to have a chat with the Captain."

Alfred's blood ran cold, his mind processing what had just been said. His castle? His guards? Oh Great Clocks above, this man was the-

"Queen of Spades? How very astute of you." The voice mocked.

Shit, he'd been thinking out loud, hadn't he?

A sudden bright light filled the room, forcing Alfred to shut his eyes so he could attempt to adjust to it. Crystals lining the walls of the hallway had all lit up at the same time, revealing a man in a black cloak standing above him, green eyes and sneer visible beneath his hood.

"Yes, I am Arthur Demetrious Kirkland, Queen of Spades and keeper of Queen's Clock." The royal announced as he flicked his hood back to show his ragged sandy blond hair, "And I had been in the middle of an exceedingly delicate ritual when my scrying orb so graciously warned me of your activities down here. Honestly, have you no sense of just what day it is?"

The way this man's hair was ruffled and the soot on his cheeks nearly got a laugh out of Alfred. Well, would have if he weren't so gods damned terrified that the man rumored to be the strongest of all witches was before him and clearly pissed off to some degree.

"Uh... Triesdas...?" Al guessed at what day it was lamely, his brain not cooperating with him, "Wait, no, it's past middle moon so... Wendas?"

"It's the full moon, you degenerate guttersnipe." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, though one of his eyes stayed open to look Alfred up and down, "You mundanes never seem to realize what phase the moon is in, do you?"

He wasn't wrong. Al couldn't even remember the last full moon he had looked at, since he tended to go out on cloud covered nights or new moons, for optimal darkness. There was something about witches and full moons, it was on the tip of his tongue.

"I have two nights a month for my magic to be at its peak, and here you come along ruining one of them!"

Ah, that was it. Witches fed off the light of the full moon or something like that. Alfred didn't really care all that much, so he'd never paid it any mind before. That sure was working out well for him, wasn't it?

"So uh, I can just leave and we both pretend this never happened, right? You can get back to your magic stuff and I can go home and wallow in my failure?" Alfred tried to give a charming smile, but it was hard when he was torn between fear of death and laughing about the fact that he could see the Queen's pajamas beneath that robe.

They had unicorns embroidered on the hemline.

However, the wicked grin he received was far from something to laugh at. "Oh no no, we can't have that. You think you can trespass in my halls and get away with a slap on the wrist? I have... something much more interesting in mind for you."

Swallowing audibly, Alfred backed himself up against the gilded doors of the treasury, the cool metal feeling like fire on his skin. "I don't like the sound of that..."

"You won't like the feel of it either, not when I'm done with you, Night Thief." Arthur grabbed Al's wrist in an icy deathgrip, the feeling of magic surging between them as their surroundings melted away and reformed in almost an instant, "Now then, be a good lad and clean up this mess."

Gone were the gilded doors and elaborately painted walls of the Underpalace, replaced with just as elegantly decorated walls and stained glass windows that let in the light of the moon. The floors appeared to be marble, though they were scorched and covered in soot. The smell of burnt... something hung in the air, though Alfred couldn't place just what it was. One thing that caught his eye, though, was the large and detailed circle in the center of the room. One large outer ring held three inner rings of varying sizes, as well as small symbols and writing between them. Candles were lit all around it, and five objects sat at each point of what appeared to be a star. Even being smeared in places, it was still a sight to behold.

Without all the broken glass, scattered utensils, and smeared soot, one would assume that some sort of sacrifice were about to happen. Wait...

"Oh my gods, please tell me you're not gonna sacrifice me to some sort of demon god thing so you can rule the kingdom with an iron fist-"

Eyes narrowed at the accusation, Arthur jabbed a finger into Alfred's chest. "Just what in the hells are you insinuating?? Only the weak sacrifice for power, honestly. Besides, have you not heard of the Witch Codes? I did write them myself, you arse. 'Witches shall not sacrifice the unwilling.'"

"There was a clause in there about criminal sacrifice though!" Alfred challenged, frowning, "Of course I read them. I was scared out of my mind when a witch took the throne! Most common folk were."

"So you did read them, hm? Well, clean this mess and I shall call us even. It was your fault my spell went awry in the first place, so I command you to clean it up at once!"

Wait, was that really all he had to do? Clean this room and he could get away without any large scale execution or dungeon time?

"You're not just teasing me, right? You'll really let me go?" There had to be a catch to this, "Forgive me for saying this, but I don't believe you, your highness. I was breaking into your treasury-"

"If you would rather I throw you in that circle and execute you myself, then please, feel free. Otherwise, get to scrubbing. I still have a few hours to salvage this spell.." Eyes going distant as he was lost in thought, Arthur merely gestured to a mop and bucket off to the side.

Without any real reason to complain, Alfred got to it, though not without checking out his surroundings. This wasn't a bed chamber of any kind, and there was no door that he could see. Perhaps the Queen had hidden it and just uses magic to get in. A glance out the window revealed them to be in one of the highest towers of the entire structure, so escaping was completely off the table. He would just have to comply with the Queen's wishes and scrub this room clean.

The gods seemed to be in a humorous mood today then.


	3. The Queen's Little Helper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred thinks about how he got into this situation, and learns a little more about the current magical monarch of Spades.
> 
> Why does the Queen look so tired?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sure if this makes sense anymore it's 2:30 am...
> 
> If you see any mistakes/continuity errors just lemme know. I'm so sleepy. Sorry I'm still getting over being sick for a week.
> 
> Please stay safe, wash your hands, and get lots of vitamin C.

Hours had passed by, and the sun was slowly but surely beginning to rise over the sleepy city of Phire. Alfred's arms were aching worse than the time he had spent working down on the coast, scrubbing ships that had made port for the season. It had been the only work available to a street urchin like himself, though the pay was little more than a pittance. Those very docks had given him one good thing, however. They had brought Gilbert from Hearts to Spades, and that had changed Alfred's life for the better.

Sort of.

The man intrigued him at first for his looks alone. How often did pale, crimson eyed old men come through these parts? Alfred had then proceeded to follow the tired and broken looking Gilbert around for the better part of a week. Of course, the jerk had known Alfred was following him from the beginning, but saw potential in Al for his abilities to stay hidden. Gil never had revealed exactly why he'd decided to take Al on as an apprentice thief and con. His only clues came from the fond and thoughtful looks Gilbert would get when he was watching, but they would always vanish as soon as they'd appeared.

Whatever the reason, Alfred had soon become well versed in thievery and other tricks of the trade. Gilbert's 'retirement' from the business came as no small shock to him as well, but Al still felt that his mentor was planning something big and just needed the palace job to get his information or something along those lines. 

All of these memories brought Alfred 'Night Thief' Jones back to his current predicament. He was done cleaning up the Queen of Spades' failed spell, but the witch had gone and fallen asleep at his desk! This room had no doors, no windows that he could survive jumping out of, and Al himself didn't have magic.

Well, shit, what was he going to do now?

The idea to make a rope down to the closest palace roof was out of the question, as these windows overlooked the palace courtyard, thus having no substantial roofline nearby that wasn't too low to reach. Not to mention the fact that he had no rope, though there were a lot of knit blankets in here. Maybe the Queen slept up here like he was now.

Of course, Alfred could just wake the man up, but he wasn't sure that his action would be appreciated. He certainly didn't like to be woken up early on the days that he could sleep in. That just left him with the option of waiting until the Queen awoke, which could take anywhere from minutes to hours. There was nothing for it though, Alfred himself had no magic to escape with. He was stuck.

As the sun rose over the horizon and shone through the windows, they projected a beautiful array of colors across the space. A little drowsy from his nightly activities and intensive cleaning, Alfred found himself gravitating towards the assorted knit blankets, plopping down on top of the pile and letting out a tired sigh. He gave a glance to the Queen, huddled in his chair and slumped over the desk. Really, he didn't seem like such a bad guy. After all, he could have killed Al on the spot, but he didn't. Maybe the Queen of Spades wasn't as scary as the rumors portrayed.

That didn't mean that Alfred trusted the man, but he did at least have respect for a ruler who could keep a level head in a situation like this. He had made Alfred do labor instead of jail time, which had been exceedingly generous, considering what Al had been caught doing. Witch or no, he wasn't half bad.

Alfred continued to stare, studying the Queen's features. His feathery hair was blond, but much lighter in color than Alfred's own. It was also sticking up at odd angles because of the way he was sleeping, slumped over the desk. Al could picture the color of the Queen's eyes in his mind, those acidic green gems staring him down in the Underpalace. They had practically glowed in the darkness, and shone even brighter in the light. Those lips as well... should he even be looking at them? Where was his mind going all of a sudden? A flush rose up into Alfred's cheeks, and he quickly shook the thought from his mind. This man before him was dangerous, not to mention taken by the future King, if there would ever be one. Best to leave those idle fantasies to the teenage commoners who longed to be romanced by Princes.

Alfred never had those kinds of fantasies growing up, mind you. Of course not. Never had, never would. None at all.

He really needed to work on his lying.

Back to the matter at hand though, the Queen lay asleep before him, undefended. Not many people in Spades had actually laid eyes on their ruler over the last five years, since he didn't seem to like public outings. Maybe it was for security reasons, or maybe he was just some kind of hermit. Both seemed likely, but Alfred was leaning more towards cranky, shut in hermit.

Quietly, Al took one of the blankets and stepped closer to the sleeping monarch. The one he had chosen matched the Queen's eye color perfectly, so it seemed fitting to use it. He carefully draped it over Arthur's shoulders, watching as a smile spread over those sleeping lips. Gods, this was unfair. The Queen had no right to look this cute when he was asleep. He was a witch for crying out loud! A man rumored to be hiding or killing his King to further his own evil agendas!

Though those rumors had no basis in any real facts, so they were unlikely to be true.

Casting his gaze to the slumbering Queen once more, Alfred bit his lip. The more Al observed, the more he studied that face, he came to realize something. There were bags under the Queen's eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days. This ritual he had been working on must have taken a lot out of him, whatever it was.

And Alfred had ruined it.

Thinking on it now, Al felt he had gotten off super lightly, just having to clean up the mess. If someone had ruined all of his plans like this, he'd have been pissed, but this witch, the Queen, Arthur...

...he just seemed tired.

Maybe when Arthur woke, he could try to make amends somehow. Sure he had already cleaned up the entire magical laboratory, but there had to be more he could do. Also, it would be nice to be on the royalty's good side, since his first impression hadn't been on the best of terms. Perhaps he could even get an inside job like Gil. There had to be something more to his 'retirement' to work here in the palace, and Alfred wanted in on it.

"But first,'' Al yawned out, rubbing his eyes, "I should sleep... anything to get me to stop speaking my thoughts out loud for anyone to hear. Thank the Clocks he seems to sleep like a rock."

Laying back on the bundle of blankets, Alfred was quick to snore his way into blissful sleep. Said sleep only lasted a few hours, as shuffling around the room soon roused him. The noises quieted as he stretched, letting out a grunt and opening his eyes blearily. Adjusting to the light of the room, the Queen's silhouette entered his line of sight, appearing very close to him. Alfred soon realized that his glasses had fallen off his face as he slept, and he blindly felt around for them.

"The famed Night Thief is blind as a bat? Fitting I suppose, seeing as you work at night." The silken voice of the Queen taunted him.

Al rolled his eyes, holding out his hand to the open air. "Har har, very funny. Can I have my glasses? If you even have them, I can't tell."

An amused chuckle escaped the blurry figure before him before everything came into focus. The Queen, Arthur, Alfred reminded himself of the name, was staring at him like he was some sort of child.

"Your hair is an absolute mess." Arthur hummed, stepping back from Alfred's personal space, "How anyone actually fears you robbing them is beyond me. You're barely an adult."

"Hey!" Al whined, standing from his warm blanket cocoon, "It's not like I go around robbing random houses-"

Arthur held up a hand, cutting him off, "You steal from stingy merchants and corrupt nobility, then give a fair chunk of your spoils to the local street urchins, I am fully aware of how you work. Why do you think you have yet to be carted off to the dungeons?"

The Queen's pale face had turned a little pink as he spoke now. "I am not so cruel a Queen to deny my less fortunate citizens succor I cannot provide myself. At least not as easily as you can, without headache inducing political repercussions."

Those words had Alfred gaping like a fish, his eyes wide. "Wait wait, are you saying that-"

"That I have been observing your outings and ordering the guard to turn a blind eye? I suppose I am saying that, but it had best not leave this room, understand?"

The inner workings of Alfred's mind were still trying to click into place, everything coming slowly to him this early in the morning. So the Queen knew full well what he was about, and even... supported him? Shit, the whole 'evil cruel magic using queen' rumors were shattering like icicles dropped on the streets from the rooftops. Suddenly all of his near misses with the guards were beginning to make sense, even the ones where Gil had helped him.

"Wait, so does Gil know-"

"Ah, so it was Beilschmidt who helped you get in. I had figured as much, thank you for confirming that for me." Arthur smirked knowingly, like Alfred had just walked into a trap.

Shit he really had to shut his big mouth sometimes.

"I uh- I never said he was, h-haha..." Alfred couldn't keep a straight face.

This Queen was dangerously good at fishing information out of him. That or Alfred himself was just big mouthed, but he refused to admit to Gilbert that it had been this easy for him to get caught. He'd be pissed, and would never let Alfred live it down.

"Don't give me that look, it's not like he'll be fired or anything." Amused, Arthur sat down at his desk and watched Alfred think, easily reading his expressions as they came and went, "Besides, he's a fine guard Captain, regardless of his past life. If I judged anyone based on past actions, I'd be quite the hypocrite."

"Oh, so you're saying you've done blood magic and sacrifice-" Alfred let the tease slip out before he could stop himself.

"No, but I tried my hand at Necromancy once or twice." Arthur responded easily, his tone bored as he looked his nails over for cracks. "I also once danced around a bonfire with naught but the night sky to hide my loins from passerby, not that there were any out so late."

That almost had Alfred's jaw hitting the floor, but he held back. Normally witches got so offended if someone even so much as made a passing joke about dark magics, but this man-

Arthur was smirking at him. It had been a joke, Al soon realized, and he felt a laugh bubble up from within him.

"Oh man, you had me goin for a moment there!"

Lips still quirked into a half smile, half smirk, Arthur gave his response.

"One of those statements was true. I'll leave it up to you to figure out which."

Pausing in his laughter, Alfred gave it some thought. He sincerely hoped it was the naked bonfire option. Not for a perverted reason, mind you! He simply had faith that the Clocks would not choose a Queen who had performed dark magics like Necromancy or Blood Sacrifice.

At least he hoped so.

"Anyways," Arthur was now reading from a book, "You have kept your end of the bargain. My laboratory has never looked cleaner, and I thank you. You are free to go."

With a snap of his fingers, a door appeared on the far side of the room.

"Just inform the servants that you are a messenger looking for Captain Beilschmidt, and they shall take you to him. Good day, Night Thief-"

"Alfred. My name is Alfred." He spoke quietly, nervous to give out his name, but he also knew now that he could trust the Queen at least somewhat. "And I wanted to ask you..."

Arthur seemed surprised, but he set the book aside to give his full attention to his 'guest'. "Ah- Alfred. Alright, what is it? Do hurry, as I have to try to get this spell working by sundown."

"That's just it." Al stepped forward, "I'm no good with magic stuff, but if I can help ya finish this spell, I think I'll feel a little more even with my debt to you. I mean, hell, I was going to steal- well, nevermind, I just want to let you know I'll help. I kinda felt bad messing it all up, since it looks like it takes a lot of work to cast this spell you're working on."

Surprise was evident on the Queen's face, but he didn't speak for a moment. That had Alfred a little nervous, but he did his best to not let it show. He'd likely get turned down anyways, and he would just be allowed to leave. Birds chirped as they passed by the windows of the magic laboratory, their noise ringing even louder than usual in the quiet space.

"You wish to help?" Arthur spoke, looking as though he were in deep thought. "Well, if you still feel you owe me, I would not be opposed. You must do exactly as I say, no mistakes, understood? I have only one more chance to cast this before the moon begins to wane."

Alfred gave the Queen a mock bow and half salute. "I just felt bad and wanted to help out. It's the least I can do, considering all you've apparently done for me, your highness."

A flush once again dusted the Queen's milky skin, and he coughed into his hand.

"Right. Now then, first I need you to..."


End file.
